


Sun in the storm

by orphan_account



Series: Multifandom One-Shot [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: 221B Baker Street, 221b, Baker Street, Child, Childbirth, Delusion, F/M, Hate, Help, London, Pregnancy, Rain, Sad, johnary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 03:29:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4206279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Settled after Mary confessed her true identity to John and before he forgave her, Mary visits Sherlock in 221B Baker Street, seeking for help</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sun in the storm

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was some random innocent one-shot I wrote while I was bored. Enjoy.

The rain was hitting hard against window glass of 221B Baker Street. Sherlock's hand were clasped together under his chin as always when he was in his Mind Palace. Four cases at the same time was a hard thing even for his brain, and he loved it.

Today was a lazy day, though. He haven't moved from his chair except for changing clothes under John and Mrs Hudson's request and for eventually go to the restroom. He didn't even move when Lestrade called, he just sent a rather angry John to Scotland Yard to get the essential informations about the case's new discovery.

The sound of steps on the stair interrupted his thoughts. He knew exactly whose steps were they: Mary Morstan Watson's.

He didn't even need to open the door for her, she has taken John's keys in her bag for a long time before actually visiting the detective, and his husband still hadn't noticed anything (and it will probably take a while before he would have).

She threw her red impermeable coat on an angle near the door and kicked her shoes away before sitting on what was her husband's chair.

"Why, good afternoon, Mary." Sherlock greeted with a note of sarcasm in his voice, but received only a muffled growl in response. He stared at her for a while before asking: "What happened this time?"

"Nothing..." the nurse answered, even though she had curled up on the chair and avoided Sherlock's gaze.

In all those years of training she learned not to let any emotion transpire, to conceal the feelings for so long that they disappeared. Now that shell has been broken and the cause of it was John.

A lump in her throat suddenly didn't let her speak but she fought for the words to come out. She had to tell Sherlock: he was the only one to understand, and even if he was the one that revealed her secret to John, she trusted him.

The tears came and she just let her run down her cheeks as she cried out;

"I'm dead! He doesn't even look at me anymore."

The man let out a soft sigh and shifted position, letting her cry and nt even coming closer to comfort her,

"I can't lie to you: you chose this."

His voice was soft, even though the words weren't meant to be. It didn't take him much to forgive her; after all, she only did what she'd done to protect John –and that was a priority of both of them.

Still, Sherlock needed the doctor to know who's the woman that he married, even if it meant planting anger in his heart.

"But it's not fair! He would have ran away if I told him." she sobbed, tears falling down her face;

"What do you want from me, then?" the man asked, Mary stopped to look at him for a long time and then scoffed, turning away,

"Nothing... Just... Nothing..." Sherlock started staring at her.

Her cheeks were red as if someone slapped her, the eyes were already swollen and shiny from the tears that didn't seem to stop dripping and falling on red woollen jumper.

_Desperation_

The word floated around her in Sherlock's mind. Now he looked at her in another way, not as the consulting detective looked at a client, but as someone looked at a friend.

As someone looked at his best friend's wife.

She was the one who took care of John during Sherlock's 'death', therefore forbidding John's suicide (because he's thought about it a lot, and Sherlock knew it).

She was the woman John loved and chose as a wife, the source of his happiness and the carrier of his child.

"You really love him" the detective commented, "You're not acting. You never did. You really want him back, another life and another identity would destroy you, especially because of the child..." He gave a look at the woman's growing belly.

At the mentioning of her child she quickly turned her attention to him,

"That's the only thing that he talks about with me..." her voice broke and the tears came again.

"I don't know if I can go on with this, Sherlock... I'm not strong enough..." She ran a hand on her belly, where the baby should have been, "I want him back."

The taller man leaned closer and patted her shoulder, half talking, half whispering: "I can do nothing for that, you know. Although, I can distract John; I can take him occupied here for a couple of days, just to have you relax a bit" he smiled softly, trying to sound as caring as possible.

Mary looked at him for a while and nodded, not looking that hopeless anymore.

After a while Sherlock returned to his paper, and Mary got up, put her coat and shoes back on and headed for the door as nothing had happened, like usually happened between the two of them.

Sherlock got up and went towards the kitchen when he found himself wrapped in Mary's hands, her head resting on his shoulder,

"Thanks, Sherlock." She whispered, and then quickly walked away, closing the door behind her.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for readingz please leave kudos in case you liked the work and leave comments to let me know if I write well or not (and you can also say if I make grammar mistakes, english is not my first language) :)


End file.
